MOVIE REVIEW: 'Late Quartet' plays mostly out of tune

“A Late Quartet,” is the story of a classical-music ensemble that you want to hate but can't, because the performances are just too good.

By Al Alexander

The Patriot Ledger, Quincy, MA

By Al Alexander

Posted Nov. 2, 2012 at 12:01 AM
Updated Nov 2, 2012 at 2:10 AM

By Al Alexander

Posted Nov. 2, 2012 at 12:01 AM
Updated Nov 2, 2012 at 2:10 AM

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In “A Late Quartet,” a classical-music ensemble rosins up the bull in a tone-deaf melodrama that loves its musical metaphors almost has much as it adores afternoon soaps. It’s the chamber music equivalent of “Gangnam Style,” sans the fun. But like that hideous pop hit, you really, really want to hate it – but you can’t. The performances are just too infectious. That’s hardly a surprise, considering Philip Seymour Hoffman, Christopher Walken, Mark Ivanir and Catherine Keener are the film’s equivalent of John, Paul, George and Ringo. The problem is that writer-director Yaron Zilberman is no George Martin.

The Beatles comparisons are lame but apropos, considering that Ivanir’s first-violinist Daniel, Hoffman’s second-violinist Robert, Keener’s violist Juliette and Walken’s cellist Peter have been the Fab Four of New York’s chamber music scene for nearly 25 years. And like The Beatles, egos, jealousies and familiarity have begun to breed contempt. We even get a Yoko Ono in Imogene Poots’ Alexandra, a young virtuoso, who also happens to be Robert and Juliette’s temptress daughter; and a Stu Sutcliffe in Peter, the group’s rock and guiding influence, who’s about to encounter a life-altering illness.

The petty arguments and stubbornness on the part of the four musicians at rehearsal also vividly recall the sniping The Beatles engaged in during filming of the classic doc, “Let It Be.” Outside the studio, though, there’s no confusing the members of the Fugue String Quartet for anything other than a parcel of prigs longing to have their egos stroked. I doubt Zilberman intended for them to come off so pretentious, but that’s just one of the many false notes he hits in saddling his characters with a catalogue of contrivances. You name it, Zilberman crams it in: a grieving widower, a mother who died during childbirth, a pair of love affairs, a neglected child and a terminal illness or two. Toss in the usual array of regrets, betrayals and misguided alliances, and you have yourself a shameless symphony of clichés.

Thankfully, the actors take a sad song and make it better, especially Hoffman and the largely unknown Ivanir. They play bitter rivals (think Lennon and McCartney) who can’t stand each other, but are in perfect harmony on stage. Both actors are riveting, and surprisingly sympathetic, given that their characters are chronic narcissists. Poots isn’t far behind in efficiency, making the most of a small role that allows her to deliciously play the martyr in a passive-aggressive vendetta against her often absentee mother, played by Keener at her bitter, guilt-ridden best. The biggest surprise, though, is Walken, who takes a role one would assume foreign to him – that of the wise but vulnerable old owl – and makes it sing.

Page 2 of 2 - Far less melodic is Zilberman’s insistence on clobbering his audience with metaphors directly relating to the quartet’s 25th anniversary concert, featuring a performance of Beethoven’s favorite composition, Opus 131 in C-sharp minor. It’s a seven-movement piece played without breaks, much like the Fugue String Quartet, has played together without pause for more than 3,000 performances. At first, the analogies border on clever, but when Zilberman starts calling upon his actors to randomly recite poems by T.S. Eliot and Ogden Nash, it begins to feel more like a mugging. Even then, when Zilberman’s observations become painfully obvious, the acting is so in tune, it remains music to the ears.

A LATE QUARTET (R for language and some sexuality.) Cast includes Philip Seymour Hoffman, Christopher Walken, Catherine Keener, Mark Invanir and Imogene Poots. Written and directed by Yaron Zilberman. At Kendall Square, Cambridge. 2.5 stars out of 4.